Half Alive
by SilenceintheGraveyard
Summary: A first-person POV of George finding Fred during the Battle of Hogwarts. As sad as it sounds (what can I say? I like pain). If you want it to hurt even more, try listening to "Hymn for the Missing" by Red while reading it. Or before. Or after.


_Where are you now?_  
 _Are you lost?_  
 _Will I find you again?_  
 _Are you alone?_  
 _Are you afraid?_  
 _Are you searching for me?_  
 _Why did you go? I had to stay_  
 _Now I'm reaching for you_  
 _Will you wait? will you wait?_  
 _Will I see you again?_

 _-Red, "Hymn for the Missing"_

I felt the explosion before he heard it; like an ominous rumbling coming up through the ground. Then came the sound, like thunder magnified a hundred times, then the crash of rock as the walls crumbled. But the most terrifying thing about it was the tremor I felt within my own body as the boom resounded through the air. I gasped; it felt like my soul was being ripped from my body. For a moment I stood there, petrified, as time seemed to stop. Then feeling jolted back through me, a terror that was like physical pain, and time sped up. I ran, ran as fast as my feet could carry me, barely noticing the shouts and the screams, the bright spells flying overhead and all around. I didn't know what I was running to, but my racing heart lead me forward, and all the while a single name resounded through my mind; Fred.

After what seemed like no time, I found myself in the ruined corridor. I stopped running, and just looked; there was ruble everywhere, dust covering the empty paintings on the walls. A gaping hole had been blown out of the floor and wall of the corridor, letting cool night air flow in. My heart flew on, like it wanted to run away from this place, run until it gave out. As though in a trance I looked to the left, at a plinth where a suit of armor once stood. Instinct drove me towards it, though every fiber of my being cried out for me to stop. I kept moving, terrified but unable to stop. At last I reached the plinth. There was something hidden behind it, tucked away, out of sight. My heart begged me not to look, but my mind insisted. I was pulled forward like a magnet, my eyes drawn irresistibly down to what I already knew I would see; what I had been terrified of seeing.

My eyes met the eyes of Fred, glassy and staring into nothing, an amused half-grin frozen on his face. Mind reeling like a Catherine wheel, vision made grainy with black spots, heart cleaving in two, I collapsed beside the body of my twin.

"N-no!" I stammered, grasping his shoulders in shaking hands. "Freddie, what is this? Y-you're not—I mean you c-can't…"

My mind couldn't comprehend it; I couldn't trust my senses, because they had to be lying.

"This…this is just a joke, eh Feddie? Yeah, it's a joke! You're playing a trick! Because that's what we do. Play tricks. Right, Fred? We play tricks? I-it's never more than a j-joke. W-we always st-stop when it's not funny anymore, right? We never take it too far. Well it's not funny anymore, Fred! So why don't you stop? Fred? Why don't you stop? Fred, stop. Stop! Stop it, Fred! Please! FRED!"

But he didn't stop. His smiling face blurred out of focus as tears burned my eyes. They might as well have been boiling hot for how they scorched my cheeks. I pulled my twin's body towards me, pressing my head to his chest, good ear straining for the sound of his heartbeat. Just like when we were children and one of us felt frightened, lonely, or lost. But I couldn't hear it. I pulled back to stare into his empty face that I held in my hands. He was still warm. So why couldn't I hear his heartbeat?

I flinched backward, dizzy with denial. I couldn't breathe. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the corridor, though I could a breeze ruffle my hair. I clutched my head in my hands, pulling at the red hair that was just like his, feeling myself crumble to pieces; fragile skin was all that held me together. I threw my head back and howled my misery to the uncaring stone. My heart was imploding with the weight of its grief. The pain of it was just too real. How could emotions literally make your chest feel as though it was cut open? I pitched forward, arms wrapping around my other half, burying my face in his chest. I held on for dear life, like if I let go I would drift off and dissolve; because it was never the earth's gravity that tethered me, but his.

"Fred! Fred, you can't do this! You can't leave me! We promised each other, remember? We'll go through life together, side by side forever. You remember that? You can't break that promise, Fred! Please Fred…please…Fred…"

I couldn't speak anymore through the sobs; sobs so violent I thought they'd break my chest, shatter what remained of my heart. It was a long time, maybe an eternity, before sheer exhaustion let me stop. Then I collapsed, utterly spent, against my twin. Two broken bodies, lying curled together in a hidden alcove. I longed for every breath to be my last. I'd never felt so empty before.

In the distance I heard a voice, desperate, calling out for someone. It sounded distorted and far away, like in a dream. I expected it to fade away, but instead it got closer, clearer.

"Ron! Harry! Where are you? Percy! Charlie! Bill! Please! Fred and George! Please, somebody answer me! Harry! Harry!"

I heard the names, heard my name, but didn't understand there was somebody looking.

"Fred! George! Oh god please, where are you? Ron! Percy!"

I recognized the voice. And I heard footsteps, someone stumbling over the ruble.

"Charlie! B—"

Her voice stopped. She must have seen me.

"George! Oh, thank god!"

Her face swam into view; Ginny's face, awash with relief. But as she looked down at me a frown creased her forehead.

"George, what…what are you doing? W-where's Fred? Who're you…"

Realization filled her eyes, and she gasped, stumbling back, hands clapped to her mouth.

"No…i-it can't be…"

She sank to her knees, face in her hands.

"No…" she moans, "oh please no…Fred…"

I could hear her crying. I tried to say her name, but I couldn't find my voice.

"MUM!" she cried out through her tears, "DAD!"

Who else would a hurting child call out for?

A shuffling sound, and I felt Ginny's hand stroke my arm, my hair, my face.

"It's okay, George," she said. "You're okay. You're not alone, I'm here."

She tried to lift my hand away from Fred, to hold it, but I tightened my grip.

"He…he's gone…" I choked. I didn't recognize my own voice; it was so twisted with grief.

"I know. It's going to be alright," but her voice broke.

"Ginny!" another voice resounded through the halls.

Ginny turned towards the ruined corridor. "Dad!" she called back.

I heard the sound of running feet, tripping once or twice on the rubble.

"Ginny!" Dad's voice came again. "Ginny!" he skidded to a stop by the plinth.

Panting, he surveyed the scene. "Merlin's beard…Fred, George…Ginny, are they…?"

They. He thought we were both dead. Nobody would ever imagine one of us would live while the other died…not even me.

"No, Dad," Ginny sobbed. "George is alive."

"George is...? But then...NO."

He got it. I moved my head a bit, meeting his eyes. His face was a mask of disbelief. But when he looked into my eyes he broke, sinking to his knees just as Ginny had, and pulling her into his arms. It was all too much. I laid my head back down on my twin's chest, sinking back into the black isolation. Then I felt myself being lifted up, away from Fred. I struggled, but stronger arms than mine were pulling Fred away. Then I noticed Ginny's voice in my ear.

"We're moving him, George. To the Great Hall. It's a ceasefire, and everyone's gathering there. We need to be together."

My mind seemed to clear a bit. I was sitting against the wall, Ginny's arm around me. Dad was standing in the corridor, Fred's body cradled in his arms. I struggled to my feet, reaching forward to grasp one of Fred's limp hands. Ginny followed, putting an arm around my waist and draping mine over her shoulders. Together, we made our way to the Great Hall.

Where the house tables usually sat there were rows of stretchers, many—too many—occupied by the dead. The injured were lying on the raised platform where the staff table usually stood. And suddenly I realized I desperately hoped no other of my family was dead. I scanned the hall, looking for their faces. There, by some filled stretchers, stood a group of red heads. Mum, Bill, Charlie, and Percy. Mum must have heard us approach, because she turned around and ran towards us.

"Oh Arthur, you found them! Oh thank heavens!"

She was on us in seconds, wrapping us in her arms.

"Oh Ginny, George, I was so worried! Arthur, is Fred hurt? Let me see, let me—"

"No Molly," Dad said.

She looked at him, confused, then her eyes drifted down to Fred's empty face. An utterly inhuman sound escaped her as she realized the truth. It was the sound of a mother's grief. I felt my legs give way again, and Ginny wasn't strong enough to hold me up. Percy rushed over, and helped Ginny lead me to where a stretcher waited for my twin. Dad placed him down gently, and Mum fell across his body, shaking with sobs. Dad tried to comfort her, patting her back as the tears poured down his face. Ginny and Percy set me down by Fred's head. I heard Ginny gasp, and looked to the right to see the lifeless bodies of Lupin and Tonks lying beside us. But I could only feel disappointment; I had no grief left to spare.

After a while I heard Ginny say, "Ron...Hermione…Harry…"

I looked up, and the sight of Ron sent a wave of relief through my body. He rushed forward, so glad to see us alive. But he didn't seem surprised to see Fred lying dead. Had he witnessed it? Hermione walked over and embraced Ginny, who hadn't let go of my arm this whole time. Harry just stood there, taking in our grief, the loss of Lupin and Tonks, and every other fallen warrior. I couldn't concentrate on much but I knew he'd take every death personally, blame himself. Because that's the sort of person he was. After a moment he ran, away from all the suffering gathered there. Had I the strength, I would have done the same.

"Freddie," I thought to myself. "I…I don't know how I can go on. You're not just a brother, just a twin, you're my other half. Our whole lives we've never been separated…so how could this happen? How could we be separated so completely? I wish I'd gotten to say goodbye to you. But at least you were laughing when you died. Maybe that means you were happy, that you weren't afraid. I'm afraid, Fred. I…I can't accept this. I can't accept that you're gone. I feel so empty, here without you. I'll try, though. For you. Because I know you'd want me to never stop the laughter. Fred…I know we didn't say it very often, but…I love you. I hope you know that."

I looked into my twin's eyes one last time, then swept my hand over his face, letting those eyes just like mine close.

"Goodbye, Fred."


End file.
